Harry Potter and his world belong to JKR


Hermione rolled over in bed after waking from a particularly jolting dream. She listened for Severus's breathing but didn't hear it, and a search for his body with her hand proved fruitless, the sheets cool. She sat up and got out of bed – perhaps he was in the living room? She took her wand from the bedside table and held it in front of her for light. Maybe he hadn't been able to sleep? He wasn't there, and Hermione began to worry a little. Why would he just leave her in the middle of the night?

She sighed and walked back into the bedroom, placing her wand on the table before climbing back into the sheets. After lying on her side for a while she heard the door creak open, click shut, and then watched as he walked into the bedroom. He placed his wand on the table and slid into bed, making an effort not to disturb her. When he had settled in beside her, Hermione ran her hand along the buttons which lined the front of his nightshirt.

"Where have you been?" she asked, confused.

He turned on his side and frowned. "I didn't wake you when I came in, did I?"

"No, I woke up and you weren't here. Where did you go?"

Their faces were only a few centimeters apart, and as she played with his buttons he brushed his thumb along the side of her cheek, cupping her jaw with his palm. "Minerva appointed me to patrol the corridors."

"Oh." She paused. "Do all professors have to?"

He gave a single mocking laugh. "Of course not. Minerva herself will only patrol four times a month. The rest of the nights are divided between myself and whoever else she is disapproving of at the moment." She frowned and then yawned a little, causing Severus to draw away and murmur gently, "Best we both get some sleep."

Hermione nodded and curled up next to him, and as he turned onto his back she placed her hand on his stomach, feeling it rise and fall. He gently placed his hand to rest on hers. She didn't fall asleep as easily as he did, and listened to his soft snores and even breathing for a long time.

.

.

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Hermione turned over in the morning and heard Severus groan as he woke up too. They both yawned, and she watched as he ran his hands through his hair and then stretched his arms. She nearly laughed - it was so strange to see Severus Snape yawning. It was such a simple thing, but still so odd for her to see him at his most human.

"Did you sleep well?" His voice was thicker, deeper, than usual.

"Yes, fine." She blushed, watching his fingers going to his hair again, and she caught a glimpse of something dark just below the edge of his sleeve.

She slowly sat up, looked into his eyes as if for permission, and then reached for his left hand, which he hesitantly gave to her. She pulled his arm into her lap and slowly pushed back the fabric. Hermione had never seen his forearm so close, and she stared at the nearly translucent skin and bright blue veins underneath. With her fingers, she delicately traced his Dark Mark, which had dulled into a bruise-like, sickly green scar. She felt a tingle of fear run up her spine. She could hear Tom Riddle's words in her head. A wizard – a powerful one – will always mark places of importance with his own symbol.

He sat up and took a hold of her left wrist with his left hand, slowly turning her arm over as she had turned over his. There, in thin white scars, spelled, "Mudblood."

His reaction was visceral, as though he might be sick. "I had forgotten... Bellatrix?" he muttered. He remembered her manic fury at their escape, and her fierce pride in having at least 'made my mark on the girl.'

"With a knife," Hermione explained, trying to forget what it had been like - the hard floor under her back, the stink of Bellatrix's breath, the excruciating point of the blade as it sliced through her skin... She shivered. "And this, here," she said, lifting her head slightly and placing the tip of her index finger against a thin red line which ran along the right side of her neck.

He bent closer, pushing her hair back so that he could inspect the neat mark so close to her throat, his fingers brushing lightly against it. There could not have been many that had had Bellatrix Lestrange's knife pressed to their neck who had lived to tell the tale. His attention returned to her forearm. He closed his eyes and ran his thumb over the marks. "I could try... there might be a poultice that could fade-"

"No," she interrupted, watching his eyes open. "Thank you, but no. I'm not... it doesn't bother me anymore."

He stared at her, his gaze heavy before he nodded and bent to kiss her once more.

They left the bed and tucked the covers under the pillows. Hermione changed into a set of simple black robes. Even though it was the weekend, she couldn't imagine wearing anything remotely Muggle-like around Severus.

After she had brushed her teeth and hair she opened the door of the bathroom to find him buttoning up a white collared shirt. She was sure that Severus Snape would wear the same outfit every day, no matter the occasion. Hermione went out and sat on the settee, and before long he was making tea for both of them.

He sat down in his armchair and watched her, noticing her furrowed brow and thin mouth. "You seem worried," he said, frowning, concerned that he had upset her earlier.

She sipped her sweetened white tea and nodded. "I am. I still don't know what I'm going to do about leaving... here. It's just difficult to imagine myself somewhere else, is all." She looked away, studying the small bookcase next to the fireplace. "I did submit an application for an internship with Shacklebolt's Junior Assistant just a few days ago."

"They almost surely will offer you the position." He paused, and asked delicately, "If they did, would you accept it?"

"I'm not sure."

He furrowed his brow. "What would be stopping you?"

The silence hung between them for a long time, her brown eyes looking into his. "You know what would be stopping me." He looked away and ran his fingers along his chin in thought.

"Perhaps I could offer you something here, with me... I had thought of it before - but you showed such active disinterest that I quickly let go of the idea."

"Active disinterest?" she asked. She now faced him fully, perched on the edge of her seat. "I don't recall ever-"

"When we were out collecting whitlow," he began in an elevated tone, before lowering his voice, "you made it quite clear you weren't interested in any sort of position concerning potion-making. If I can remember the exact words correctly, they were, 'Whoever said I wanted to be a Potions master?'"

Her face went white. "Well, I wasn't in a very good mood that evening, considering you made me ride on a broomstick across Scotland in the middle of the night when it was freezing outside." He pressed his lips together in a fashion that was altogether McGonagall-esque. "I shouldn't have said it – I really didn't mean it. But even if I did take the position, won't it be a little suspect when people start asking questions about us? 'Why did you choose him as your mentor? What sparked your interest in Potions? How could you possibly enjoy being in the company of Professor Snape for any length of time?' They'll certainly know we're together, everyone would know..."

Severus stood up and paced in front of the fireplace. "Hermione, you couldn't be so naive as to think that two people haven't been in our situation before."

She looked down, embarrassed. "Everyone knows who I am. Everyone knows who you are. It isn't so simple..."

He ran his hands through his hair before placing them on the arm of the settee, looking down at her. "Did you not think of this before telling me you cared for me? Did you not think that one day, at some point, our relationship would be common knowledge?" His face suddenly looked taut. "You sound as though you are ashamed of it."

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "I just... I wasn't sure how you would feel." She paused. "You don't mind then, everyone knowing?"

He looked down at her. "I was not going to publicly announce our relationship, no, but when I told you that I was sure I wanted to be together, I knew what that inherently entailed. I knew that eventually, word would spread. We cannot stay a secret forever, Hermione."

She bit her bottom lip and thought for a few minutes that were heavy with silence. "Where... where would I live?"

"In a castle the size of Hogwarts, room and board will not be difficult to come by, although I imagine it would require approval from Minerva."

Hermione looked up at him impatiently. Didn't he know that all she wanted in the world was him? "What work can a Potions master find?" she asked quietly.

"There are many possible paths. Research, Healing, Ministry work if nothing else." After another silence, he sat down beside her. "You still seem upset."

She shook her head without looking at him. "No, no… It's just, I never saw myself in that field because I assumed it was something you needed a natural knack for, which I don't know that I have."

"You have made a fair amount of progress the past several months with my guidance. I am certain that, given time, your capabilities would flourish." He stood up again, uncharacteristically restless. "However, I will not accept you if you do not truly believe that your future lies within the realm of Potions. A career should be chosen based upon a combination of both skills and interests, and not because someone expects it of you."

"Well, I..." For some reason, she could not speak.

"I will retract my offer, in that case." He gulped down the rest of his tea and walked towards the kitchen.

Hermione stood up, her heart sitting at the bottom of her stomach, and she knew in that moment that she had been waiting for this very offer for the longest time. Why did she always let her fear of being wrong get in the way? She said loudly, "But you can't! I want... I want to accept it." And she knew it was true. He, who could draw out the very best she had to offer, who kept her on her toes, who did not treat her as though she was so advanced that she had little left to learn, would be second to none as her instructor.

"Sit down, Hermione."

She did not sit, but instead walked up to him and drew herself up to her full height, her brown eyes burning into his dark ones. "I am sure. I want to be your apprentice, more than anything."

He unexpectedly placed one of his hands beneath her jaw, running his thumb over her chin. "You are sure?" he asked, the corner of his lip curling upwards.

Hermione nodded, her lips breaking into a grin. "Yes, yes I am."

He pressed his nose to her forehead and kissed the space between her eyebrows, his other hand going to gently sit on her waist. "Deciding your future is not easy; we must commemorate the occasion. Would you dine with me this evening? Somewhere other than Hogwarts, of course."

Dinner - a date - with Severus Snape? Hermione's stomach was bubbling over with pleasure, anxiety, and disbelief. "I - I'd love to." She didn't think she would ever be able to speak correctly when he kissed her, and she smiled as his soft, warm lips touched hers. He allowed her to wrap her arms around him, and he reciprocated lightly.

After she let go he placed a hand upon the work table, the wood creaking under his weight. His eyes drifted from hers to the clock upon the mantelpiece, then back. "Perhaps we can spend some more time with my mother's memories before you leave for the afternoon?"

"Yes, of course," she responded, her mind buzzing with the thoughts of her future, a smile still splayed across her lips.

She watched as he retrieved the Pensieve again, setting it upon the table and pouring the white, glowing contents of a couple vials into the black liquid. They stood shoulder to shoulder as they bent over together, falling forward and into the past.

Eileen sat in the library at her usual table, tucked between a large window offering a view of the lake and separated from the Restricted Section by a few bookcases. A small ladybug was lying on its back on the wooden table in front of her, and she poked it with her wand to see if it was still alive. It waved its legs around frantically, hoping for some purchase, and stopped when Eileen quickly withdrew. She twisted her wand and the ladybug flew up into the air and fell back to the table with a clatter – it had been transfigured into a pin. However, a pair of antennae still wiggled around near where the head had been, and she sighed deeply.

Hermione noticed Tom Riddle out of the corner of her eye. He had been watching Eileen for some time, and he took the chance in the deserted library to surprise her. Hermione looked on as Tom quietly walked between the bookshelves and then stepped out, sitting down in the chair opposite Eileen and dropping the books he had in his arms on the table, causing her to jump in her seat.

"Don't you ever leave the library?" he asked, his mocking tone thinly veiled.

"I could ask you the same," she retorted, crossing her arms and frowning.

He smirked at her. "I don't know what I did to make you so angry with me."

"You know perfectly well," she grumbled. Her gaze went from his eyes to his Slytherin tie and then to the books he had been reading. Magick Moste Evile. The Lost Legacy. Salazar Slytherin: His Philosophy and its Application. They all appeared as though they belonged in the Restricted Section.

"What's a handful of house points in the grand scheme of things? If I hadn't acted quickly, Minerva would have questioned us incessantly. It was better to get her out of our hair." He seemed quite pleased with himself, his gaze fixed on her. "I do, however, have a question for you. You seem well read. Are you familiar with the legend of this school?"

She shook her head, looking at him with mistrust. "The legend? Do you mean the four founders?"

"In part. You must have heard of the dispute between Salazar Slytherin and the rest?"

"Of course," she responded impatiently. "I'm not a dolt."

He paused, the silence heavy between them. He lowered his voice, "Then, of course, you will have heard Slytherin did not leave without first ensuring one day his wishes had the potential of being filled… that he had built a chamber in the heart of the school, one which has eluded discovery for centuries?"

She looked at him, an odd look on her face. Clearly, she had not heard of this before.

"Now," he began, reaching into his school bag, "I have written everything that I've learned about Slytherin and the chamber in this journal." Hermione recognized the leather-bound volume at once. It was - or would become - a Horcrux, the diary that had possessed Ginny. "I just need to find out where it is."

"Why?"

"To enter it, of course," he said, rolling his eyes at her and flattening his hair. "I had hoped you would have wanted to solve a mystery that is at the very foundation of Hogwarts." He paused, looking around to see if anyone was nearby. His eyes eerily looked right into Hermione's before he continued, "Now, I had assumed Slytherin would have built a chamber leading to the common room of his potential heirs, but had no luck when I looked for it. It's difficult to search the entire school, and besides, there are places where the entrance may be that I cannot enter... such as the Ravenclaw common room." He looked at her meaningfully.

"I... I can't promise anything," Eileen mumbled, knowing now why he had approached her. He simply needed a Ravenclaw, any Ravenclaw, to check their common room for an entrance. The idea of a hidden chamber did interest her, however if people had been searching for centuries with no luck she felt that he was being fairly optimistic of his own abilities to discover it. "I highly doubt he would have connected his chamber to the common room of the students of someone who directly disagreed with him." She paused, thinking, looking away from him. "I'm not sure how I would know what I was looking for, in any case." Eileen took the strange creature she had transfigured and slipped it into her pocket, standing up and gathering her things to leave.

"Your name is Eileen, right? Eileen Prince?" he asked, bending towards her. She paused a moment and nodded, wondering what would even cause him to think about that. He tried his best to grin, but could only pull off a strange sort of leer. "You seem more like a Princess to me."

Hermione could tell he was lying through his teeth, and not even well, but it did have its intended effect on Eileen. She began to blush profusely. She bit her bottom lip but, as though he had never said anything, she turned on her heel and left.

Tom Riddle faded from view and was replaced by Eileen, again studying by herself in the same spot she had before. She looked up, a puzzled expression on her face, towards the back of the library. Hermione couldn't see anything and instead listened closely, hearing what distinctly sounded like someone sniffling. Eileen stood up and walked down the aisle of bookcases cautiously, curious but not interested in any more trouble for herself. Hermione and Severus both walked close behind. Eileen peered around the corner before stepping towards a very large boy, his hands covering his face as he cried in a corner formed by two massive bookcases.

"Are... are you all right?" she asked, although he didn't hear her above his bawling. "Are you all right?" she repeated, a little louder.

He put his hands down immediately as though caught in a terrible act, his face wet with tears and his small eyes red.

"What's your name?" she asked kindly, seeing that he was obviously quite upset.

"R-Rubeus H-H-Hagrid," he blubbered. It was strange for Hermione to see Hagrid so young and without his trademark substantial facial hair, but he was still instantly recognizable.

"No, no, don't worry – I won't tell anyone you're crying." She knelt down next to him, pulling a handkerchief out of her blouse and handing it to him. Hermione noticed his hands were already massive, and even though he was sitting on the floor – no seats seemed large enough for him to sit in to study – he was still much taller than Eileen. "Are you all right?"

He blew his nose and she gestured for him to keep the handkerchief when he tried to hand it back. "It's jus' - it's jus' - I'm failin' me classes an' me dad wouldn've liked ter see me fail." Unfortunately, he didn't realize that he had been tearing up the little white square as he spoke, and now tatters of cloth lay on his robes.

"He 'wouldn't' have liked?" she asked

"'e died a few months ago, me dad did. 'e was goin' ter get me a pet fer my birthday, in December. My firs' birthday without 'im, an' I - I - I'm jus' not doin' well with me classes," he blubbered on, his words difficult to distinguish in his grief.

Eileen had a frown on her face and Hermione, who was standing between her and Hagrid, saw tears forming in her eyes. "Do you know what kind of pet?"

"Er, no. An owl, or cat, or summat o' the sort. Always fancied dragons, though."

She looked as though she was thinking, and she said, "You know, there are lots of books about dragons here, in the library."

"Really?"

Eileen nodded and said, "Hold on, I'll go get some." She quickly returned with several books in her arms and pulled up a chair alongside Hagrid. "Look, Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland." He seemed to light up, and it was quite a sight to see the abnormally large half-giant sitting on the ground, peering over the shoulder of the comparatively minuscule Eileen, the book open in her lap. Dragons zoomed on and off of the pages, breathing fire and making spectacular swoops over forests and alongside mountains. Eileen seemed rather pleased with herself for calming him down. "I'm only a second year, but I've heard that Professor Kettleburn is really quite nice. Do you like his class?" He nodded, and she suggested, "Perhaps you could ask him if he needed any help taking care of the animals."

"D'yeh think 'e needs help?"

"I'm sure he would. And I can help you study for your classes, if you like."

"Aren' yeh a secon' year?"

"I am, but I could still try and help. I don't think the third year curriculum is too different from ours. And sometimes, you just need a friend to help you."

Hagrid smiled and his little black eyes watered with tears. "I'm gonna go an' talk ter Kettleburn righ' now." He got to his feet, a little top-heavy and swaying precariously as he tried to catch his balance. "Thanks... er... what's yer name?"

"Eileen," she said, standing up and replacing the chair from the table she had borrowed it from. "It was nice to meet you, Rubeus. I hope you feel better."

He turned to leave but suddenly stopped. He looked back down at her, held his arms open, and said, "I was jus' wonderin' if I could... er..." He doubled over and hugged her as gently as he could manage, and Hermione smiled at how sweet he was and the comical way that Eileen couldn't get her arms around him any more than she would have been able to embrace a tree trunk. Hagrid stood up straight and still sniffled a little as he left, his cheeks slightly pink and the dragon book clutched tightly in his hand.

"That's enough for today," Severus said, taking her hand and pulling them out of the Pensieve.

She began to protest but they were already back in his chambers. "But we only saw two!"

"Don't be impish," he reprimanded, dropping her hand.

"Don't be in such a mood. Your mother was so adorable," she said, teasing him and watching him wave his wand to gather her things, a smirk on his face.

"And so are you," he said, directing her to the door. "You've spent enough of your day with me; you must be hungry. Perhaps you should find something to eat, and I will meet you in the courtyard at eight o'clock tonight." She nodded, leaned in to give him a kiss, and left for her room.